


Too Late

by Enonem



Category: The Shadow Campaigns - Django Wexler
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enonem/pseuds/Enonem
Summary: Set after the end of the series.Huge spoilers for The Infernal Battalion.





	Too Late

A woman sat on a bench in the square, watching the people as they slowed down to glance at the newly erected statue.

Some immediately picked up the pace again, hunching their shoulders, afraid of the monument and what it signified. Others looked up with awe-struck eyes. Occasionally, uneasy young people approached the harassed looking man in uniform who sat at the base of the statue.

The ministry of the occult had decided to have someone there, for the first few days after the unveiling at least, to reassure the uneasy crowds by giving them what detail he could about the whole story. The existence of magic and demons had been common knowledge in Vordan for several decades now, but the second war against the Beast had remained a secret until recently, and it had shaken people almost as badly. Slowly, they had managed to come to terms with it, more or less, and certain wrongs had been redressed.

The woman had been sitting there for hours every day since the statue was unveiled, listening to the same snippets of conversation, repeated day after day by different people.

“I don’t believe any of this,” said an old man. “I was only a boy at the time, but I remember him. He was a scary man on his own and didn’t need the Beast for that. This is political propaganda and nothing more.”

A woman showed the statue to her son. “My grandmother was in his army you know? Before the Beast came back. She always used to say that between him and Ihernglass they could have done anything. And they did!”

“It’s all good and well to give him a statue now.” Two young women, arm in arm, were looking up in disappointment. “But what about Winter? She did much more, didn’t she?”

Two little children, a boy and a girl, came every day to play soldiers. Striding up and down the square, saluting awkwardly up at the monument and ‘shooting’ at the crowd with sticks for muskets.

The woman on the bench watched and listened and before she knew it her face was wet with tears.

Occasionally someone would notice her. They would look at the statue, back at her, whisper to their companions and hurry away. She ignored them. She had been ignoring the frightened whispers that followed her for twenty years now.

The Ministry had wanted to keep her a secret, when she returned to Vordan. But she had refused. She knew that knowledge of what had happened to her would be a necessary stepping stone between people acknowledging the existence of magic and accepting what had happened with the Beast. Existential and religious crises need to be taken slowly by the people to avoid widespread bloodshed.

She had been right of course. As he had known she would be, when he sent her back with failing voice. _You will know what to do._

An old woman sat down next to her, shaking her from her reverie. She took her hand and smiled sweetly. “My father knew him,” the old woman said. “He heard from the old king why he did… everything he did.” She shook her head. “He was a hero. But I’m sure you know that.” And with another smile she got up and walked away without waiting for a reply.

The crowds gathered and left as the day wore on. The woman did not leave her seat until late at dusk, when the square was empty. The weary man from the Ministry eventually left as well, nodding at her from a distance. She nodded back.

Once she was alone, with the exception of a few people on their hurried way home for the evening, she left her seat and approached the stone pedestal.

> _In memory of Count Janus bet Vhalnich Mieran  
>  For his contribution to saving the nation of Vordan and the whole world from the Beast  
>  A hero to all, he died far from his land, after a long voluntary and undeserved exile _

She looked up at the statue. Janus had been depicted young, in what she knew was his First Consul uniform. He was looking in the distance, one hand closed in a fist on his chest, as though he were saluting the people of Vordan.

There were five flowers at the foot of the pedestal, the first three mostly withered already. She lay down a sixth before giving a final look up.

“Thank you, little brother,” Mya said.


End file.
